


a certain light on a certain face

by 524



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Character Death, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-17 01:40:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4647480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/524/pseuds/524
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Six will not make the same mistakes twice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a certain light on a certain face

Six isn't sure who's more fucked up, her or Benny.

Sure, she's willing to sleep with the guy who shot her in the head, but that's only because it's the most convenient way to get the leader of the Chairmen alone. She can't deny that her veins are thrumming with excitement, but she tells herself that's just the anticipation of revenge. Benny's eyes light up as she pushes her chest out and licks her lips and curls a lock of hair around her finger, trying hard to seem like like she's _not_ trying hard, and when he leans in and tells her she's one sick pussycat she notices there's a tent in his gaudily-patterned pants already.

Six tells herself it's definitely more fucked up to want to have sex with someone you shot than with someone who shot you, but is it really worth differentiating between?

As they lay in bed afterwards, Six decides that the sex was Okay. She's pretty sure she isn't a virgin - everything before the bullets is a mystery, but the feeling of cock inside her is familiar somehow, and some muscle memory within her knows exactly how she should move, where she should touch, how to angle herself. They both throw themselves back onto the bed once they’re done, Benny lights a cigarette and nestles his head into the crook of Six's shoulder as he puffs on it. She figures it's about time she jumped out of bed and pulled a gun on him - hers were confiscated at the casino door but she knows Benny’s is still in the pocket of his suit jacket, long discarded on the floor - and yet she stays in bed, watching Benny filter smoke through his lips in a long stream as it rises to the cracked, off-white ceiling.

"So, how'd you make it all the way to the Strip on your own, baby?" Benny asks, leaning over to tap the burning end of his cigarette into an ashtray. Six doesn't speak, so he continues. "The Mojave ain't friendly, especially for a pretty young thing like you all on your own." Six snorts at that.

"Who wants to travel with an undead courier who loses packages? I'm not exactly a people magnet." Six closes her eyes, sighs. She hates to admit it, but ever since she woke up in Goodsprings there's been a loneliness aching inside her, growing and pressing against her organs uncomfortably. Six figures she had someone close before she got shot, and even if her brain doesn't remember them, her heart does. She tries not to think about it too much though, because the ache makes it difficult to concentrate on her goal.She's flitted between settlements, trading favours for information on Benny, never stopping too long or talking too much to anybody.

"Yeah, but even the caravan masters have their pack brahmin to talk to!" Benny shakes his head.

"I have a dog," Six mutters defensively. She's well aware of how pathetic it sounds, travelling so far on her own just to find Benny, but what else could she do, with the hazy vision of an ugly chequered suit being her only memory?

Benny stubs his cigarette out, turns back towards Six.

“Well damn, you’re one tough cookie. But we already knew that, right?” He taps the scar on her forehead, gently enough, but she still flinches away from him slightly. Doc Mitchell had shaved that side of her head when he was picking out the shrapnel, but that was over two months ago, and now a downy fuzz of hair is beginning to grow. Benny rubs his palm against it soothingly.

“You’re an asset, kid. We can do good work together, you and me, yeah?” Six wants to shove him away, to scoff and proclaim her independence, but the lonely feeling in her chest is ebbing away as Benny’s fingers trace swirls on her scalp and the promise of partnership, even just a business one, feels good. Feels like a new start. Hope.

“...Yeah,” Six agrees eventually, but Benny has already half-drifted into sleep. She pulls the blankets up around her chin and quickly follows suit. In the morning they will talk more, and share plans, and they will become great together. The thought wraps around her, as warm as Benny snoring quietly next to her, and for the first time since she woke up in Goodsprings she feels calm.

 

* * *

 

Six isn’t sure who’s more stupid, her or Benny.

She wakes up bleary-eyed and alone. Her clothes are folded neatly on a chair, a hastily-scribbled note on top, which she barely reads before ripping it into shreds, letting them fall onto the floor.

“Have you learnt nothing?” she growls at herself, slamming open wardrobes and desk drawers, scouring Benny’s apartment like a whirlwind for clues, information, anything useful. As long as she keeps hold of the anger she can be powerful, and she will not let herself cry. She will not shed tears over this lying scumbag in a cheap suit.

When she finds the robot with the unnerving, unwavering smile, and he tells her everything, pieces start to slot together in her mind. It comforts her that she isn’t the only one who has made a mistake; all of Benny’s carefully made plans are available to anyone who can get into his room. Six decides it’s about time she paid a visit to the Lucky 38, with or without the Platinum Chip. She thanks Yes Man for his help, leaves the Tops suite and exits the casino, making sure to grab her weapons on the way out. The solid feeling of a gun on her hip is comforting, and for a moment she feels less vulnerable, until a hand grabs her arm not two steps out of the casino door and pulls her aside.

“You…” Six mutters, staring at the man who has waylaid her. He’s dressed in a smart suit, a world apart from the legionary uniform he wore as he stood in the burning town of Nipton, and she yanks her arm away from him in disgust. Her fingers stray to her gun on instinct. “I should kill you.”

“And draw the attention of the Securitrons? An unwise move, I assure you.” Vulpes Inculta meets her gaze levelly, and Six is so busy trying to read his face that she doesn’t notice at first when he holds something out to her. She takes it, turning it over in her hands curiously. As the legionary explains what the Mark of Caesar means, it seems to weigh more and more in Six’s hands. “Lord Caesar seems to think your help could be valuable,” he says, looking like he thinks it could be anything but.

A part of Six tells her that siding with power is the way to go, but she can still smell searing flesh when she thinks of Nipton and her stomach lurches.

“Tell your Lord Caesar to shove it.” She goes to push past Vulpes, but he grabs her arm again, pulls her close with an iron grip so that he can hiss in her ear.

“The man in the ridiculous suit was seen leaving this...den of corruption earlier this morning. It seems he is on his way to Fortification Hill. Don’t you want to see what will become of him?” Six’s eyes widen and Vulpes smirks, the first real show of emotion he’s displayed while they’ve been talking. She stays frozen for a moment, processing, before wrenching her arm away again and turning to leave the Strip, lightning in her eyes. As if it's an afterthought, she pauses before going through the gate, whips out her 10mm and fires. Six lingers long enough to watch the bullets connect with Vulpes Inculta's head, collapsing the flesh and turning it into a spray of blood and tissue as his lifeless body crumples to the floor. Satisfied, she shoves her way through the gate and off of the Strip as the screaming begins.

Six is fucked up and stupid, but as she sets off in pursuit of Benny once again, she promises herself she will not make the same mistakes twice.

**Author's Note:**

> yikes, this is the first fic i've published in years. i'm so rusty.


End file.
